


a distinct lack of total attention

by cuddlesome



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Heavy Drinking, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Kylo is lonely and angry and pining for Rey at a party.





	a distinct lack of total attention

Kylo Ren wants to ignite his lightsaber through the next person to make eye contact with him. Hux seems to sense this, lurking a good thirty feet away and drinking alcohol that looks too heavy for this type of event. There are other officers dotted around the ballroom, holding champagne in gloved hands while they solicit the opulent guests for support for the First Order.

 

Kylo knows he should probably follow their lead and drink something, it will take the edge off of his nerves, but he tends to be more irritable when he’s drunk. Well. More than usual. 

 

The sheer amount of people at the party makes him feel aggravated, but they’re also  _looking_  at him which makes it that much worse. The finery that had been designed for him is meant to be looked at, of course. It’s not at all in line with his usual battle-ready tunics and raggedy capes. As Supreme Leader he has to keep up appearances. The garb he sports now is heavy and accented with red and inlaid with some precious gems that he hadn’t bothered to listen to the names of when the seamstress described them to him. And it’s very hot. And too tight, despite the careful measurements. And he hates it. 

 

It is as he stands in one corner, sweltering, that some fool makes the mistake of trying to talk to him. Everyone here is human, but the way the woman sidles up to him reminds him of a twi’lek. 

 

Kylo doesn’t pay much attention to the drivel she says, but he registers “tall, dark, and handsome” at some point and feels a bit of heat surface in his cheeks. He’d never been complimented that way before. Schmaltzy and cliché as the phrasing is, he would have loved to hear it from Rey.

 

He recalls the door slamming in his face and goes cold. That thought in combination with the wench touching his arm in a far too familiar way sours his mood again.

 

The woman leans over so far her breasts are liable to pop out of the front of her dress. He’ll give her this, she’s brave; most people would have been terrorized by the sheer venom in his glare, but not her.

 

The woman offers him her drink as per the custom on this planet, turned so that the glass has her lipstick print facing towards him. Kylo refuses it at once. If he has a drop of alcohol in his system he’ll almost certainly kill someone. That wouldn’t look great to the Order’s potential donors. 

 

She pouts but doesn’t leave. Her boldness seems to encourage other women who had been hanging back, dispelled until now by his standoffish demeanor. They are dressed in various states of tastefulness but all have sheer impracticality in common. 

 

As they attempt to get his attention all he can think about is how Rey would probably never deign to wear any of the gaudy dresses. Maybe something less elaborate with more muted colors. Something soft.

 

His mouth ticks into the tiniest smile and the throng of women seem to take that as a sign to get even closer to him. They have no sense of personal space. Hands land on his arms, his belt, his chest. Kylo manages to keep it together up until the moment that the first woman gets on tiptoes and touches his cheek, right on top of his scar. 

 

“How’d you get this?”

 

With a snarl and an outward shove of the Force, Kylo propels all of his admirers away. He stomps out of the ballroom, not sparing the fallen women or any of the onlookers helping them up a second glance. He can feel Hux’s judgement radiating from across the room but he doesn’t care.

 

He goes out the door and onto the balcony overlooking the lake outside. Thankfully for his sanity there’s no one else around--

 

No, he’s wrong. There’s someone on the far side. Kylo rips his lightsaber off of his belt in preparation to brandish it and scream at them to leave, but he stops himself short of igniting it.

 

It’s Rey. Their bond shows her to him, faced away but distinctly Rey nonetheless.

 

The bitter anger that had been stewing in his guts all night begins to drain away and it’s replaced by a sudden sweet hope and affection that can only be from the heart of Ben Solo. They had left off on bad terms, but he so wants to talk to her. Maybe he can begin to make things right. Maybe she’ll reconsider his offer.

 

Kylo puts his lightsaber hilt back on his belt and takes a few steps towards her. 

 

Rey, Rey, Rey--

 

...and someone else steps into his field of view.

 

Kylo stops. The traitor. A muscle in his cheek tics. 

 

They’re talking. They’re too far away for him to hear, but the content of the conversation doesn’t matter much because whatever they’re discussing would have paled in comparison to what happens next. 

 

She hugs him. She hugs that wretch.

 

Kylo’s hands curl into fists and tremble at his sides. She should be here, really here, with him, the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the most powerful man in the galaxy. Not off with the Resistance in some shithole corner of the Outer Rim where the Order can’t find them, hugging a stormtrooper who has the delusion he can be a hero. 

 

How could someone like that even begin to compete with him?

 

The anger returns full force and then some, boiling over. Kylo turns away from what the bond shows him, unknowing and uncaring if Rey even saw him in turn. He returns to the party and seeks out the hardest liquor he can find.

 

It's strong, a continually burning fire in his throat and stomach, but one drink isn't near enough to make him forget what he'd seen. An officer tries to discourage him from going any further when he gets to his fifth. He slams him into a wall with the Force. Hux tries next and the sound of his smarmy voice is what makes Kylo truly snap.

 

There are no casualties because everyone evacuates the moment he draws his saber, but the room is made into a war zone. At the end of it all Kylo stands in the center of the burning wreckage, cheeks flushed with anger and inebriation and exhaustion. He pants heavily. The damn outfit made every movement with his lightsaber unbearable, embittering even his venting process. His throat feels raw and there’s prickling behind his eyes.

 

At least there’s no one around anymore. Not even Rey. He can be all by himself, just like he wanted.


End file.
